


Remembrance

by threadoflife



Series: Parentlock verse [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Birthday, Dogs, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, Future, M/M, Parentlock, Redbeard - Freeform, Rewriting the past, Sherlock has grown so much, Sherlock is a Good Parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 23:50:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9408173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threadoflife/pseuds/threadoflife
Summary: For her fifth birthday, they get Rosie a dog.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah okay apparently I'm into parentlock now. Dunno.
> 
> This hung around my head and wouldn't let me leave.

For Rosie’s fifth birthday, they get her a dog. It’s a Beagle, and when she laughs in delight she sounds like John when he giggles. Sherlock watches the scene from his chair and wonders how his ribcage, so small, can house such a large, overflowing love.

“Say thank you to your pa,” John tells her from where he is crouched by her side, stroking his hand over her fair, thin hair. “Go on. Say thank you.”

Rosie looks up at him, and her cheeks are probably too red, but–there are worse things, Sherlock decides. There are worse things.

“Pa,” she says, voice high and excited. She is stroking the beagle’s head, over and over. “Can I call him Redbeard?”

It takes every ounce of control Sherlock has to keep his face relaxed and gentle. John glances quickly up at him and stares for a moment–another–and then he turns to Rosie and says, “Maybe sleep on it and decide tomorrow, Rosie, I think–”

“No, it’s fine,” Sherlock says. He clears his throat before his voice can break. He blinks. And blinks. Rosie just keeps looking at him and waits. She knows when pa is blinking, he’s thinking, and that he snaps out of it sooner or later. Rosie is extraordinarily patient for her age.

“It’s fine,” Sherlock repeats, and then he smiles, slow but genuine. “He does look like a Redbeard, doesn’t he?”

“I know!” Rosie cries, and then she jumps up and is off like a shot down the stairs, shouting, “Mrs H, Mrs H!”

The dog is off after her without a second’s hesitation.

Sherlock breathes through the sudden silence. After a while, John gets up with a wince–his knees aren’t kind to him in age–and steps towards Sherlock.

“Sherlock,” he begins, “you don’t have to–”

“It’s fine, John.” Sherlock takes another deep breath and then looks up at that weathered, dearly beloved face. “Sometimes you have to rewrite the past.” He takes John’s hand into his and drops a kiss onto the back of it. “I couldn’t ask for a better new memory.”

John’s face goes terribly soft. He doesn’t try to hide it anymore, these days. “Well then,” he says. “To new memories.”

They spend the rest of their lives making new memories.

**Author's Note:**

> _Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure._
> 
> Jane Austen


End file.
